


The Cat's Meow

by osprey_archer



Series: Reciprocity Extras [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Roleplay, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 20:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15614310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osprey_archer/pseuds/osprey_archer
Summary: Bucky attempts to induct Steve into his werecat jewel thief fantasy. With sex.





	The Cat's Meow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhatEvenAmI](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatEvenAmI/gifts).



> Thank you to littlerhymes for betaing this!

After his shower, Steve flops on the couch. There’s a bed, but that’s ten feet further on, which is ten feet too far to go. It’s been a damn long day. Steve can’t believe that Bucky still had energy to head down to the pool hall.

Steve ought to turn out the lights, but that would also require getting up. He drapes a forearm over his eyes instead. The air conditioner hums. Steve drifts. 

The door opens. Steve uncovers his eyes, squinting into the light. Then he smiles and holds out his arms. “Hey, Buck.”

The light switches off. Steve hears rather than sees Bucky move through the suddenly dim room. There’s a clatter as Bucky runs into the coffee table. “You okay?” Steve asks. 

Bucky flops down on top of him. “Ow,” Steve complains, because it feels like it ought to hurt, although it doesn’t really. 

Bucky rests there for a little while. He is half on top of Steve, an arm and a leg hanging over the edge of the couch, and his face awkwardly pressed against Steve’s solar plexus. Steve lifts a hand and lets it drop on Bucky’s head. Bucky’s hair is soft. 

Bucky bestirs himself. He drags himself up along Steve, till he’s got his head tugged under Steve’s chin, and then he snuggles down with his head tucked under Steve’s chin. The weight of his body pulls up Steve’s shirt a few inches. Bucky’s hand brushes the exposed skin, his thumb resting lightly along the ridge of Steve’s ribcage. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve says again. His hand now rests against Bucky’s shoulder blades. It feels too heavy to lift, so he drags it up along Bucky’s back till it’s resting against Bucky’s head again. He scratches Bucky a little, just behind the ear, and Bucky sighs, and Steve doesn’t just feel the puff of his breath, but the movement of his chest as he breathes. 

Bucky yawns. There’s a little pop in his jawbone. Steve stops scratching. His hand droops against Bucky’s head. 

Bucky butts his head up under Steve’s chin, like a cat, and Steve starts to giggle. Bucky’s hair tickles. Steve scratches him behind the ear again, cradles the back of his head and strokes his hair. Bucky rubs his face against the soft cloth of Steve’s t-shirt. Then he… purrs? 

Yes, he’s actually purring. Steve can feel the vibration against his neck, and he starts to giggle again, and presses his mouth against the top of Bucky’s head to muffle it. Bucky’s hand has slipped up under Steve’s shirt, and he squeezes Steve’s side, and Steve cups Bucky’s head with one hand and slides the down the line of Bucky’s spine to the small of his back, and turns his head to whisper in his ear, “Here, kitty kitty kitty…”

Bucky rears back so hard that he falls off the couch. “No!” he yells. 

It’s like a bucket of ice water. Steve scoots so he’s sitting against the arm of the couch, clasps his arms around his knees, and tries not to sound sulky when he says, “What?” 

Bucky sighs. He’s sprawled on the floor, hair falling in his face, his shirt askew so that there’s just a little bit of bare skin playing peek-a-boo at his waist. It’s not fair, Steve feels. 

“It’s creepy if you’re a pet owner,” Bucky explains. “You’re supposed to be a cat. A werecat. Like me.” 

“Oh,” says Steve, matching Bucky tone for huffy tone. “Well, then, my mistake. You know it’s easier when you tell me _beforehand_ what I’m supposed to be pretending to be, rather than just diving right in and expecting me to just know that I’m meant to be a cat – ”

“A werecat.”

Steve ignores him. “Or your Cold War American spy nemesis, or – ”

“Well, it’s not like you could be a _Soviet_ spy,” Bucky interrupts. “Your Russian accent is terrible.” 

“Sorry,” Steve says frostily. “I figured that as long as we were pretending anyway…”

“That doesn’t mean you can just throw out all attempt at verisimilitude.” 

Steve starts to laugh. He can’t help it. Bucky just sounds so severe, like a schoolmaster, and it’s just so funny when they’re talking about _werecat roleplay_ , good Lord. Steve curls up on his side on the couch and giggles madly. 

When he finally gets himself under control, he half-expects to discover that Bucky has stormed off in a huff – or, perhaps, has waited to storm off till Steve stopped laughing so he could have Steve’s full attention. But Bucky is still sitting there, an unwilling half-smile on his lips. He covers it with a hand when he sees Steve looking. “It’s important,” he insists, attempting to sound stern. But his eyes are crinkling at the corners. 

“Fine,” Steve says, in his most long-suffering voice. He flops back on the couch, his hands behind his head. “What kind of cat am I supposed to be?”

Bucky crawls up over him, not resting his body weight on Steve, but just looming over him. “A housecat,” he says, and touches the tip of his nose against Steve’s. 

“I want to be a tiger,” Steve says, just to be difficult. 

“ _No_. A tiger would be completely useless as a jewel thief, Steve. The point of a werecat jewel thief is that it can sneak through small spaces and move without being noticed. A tiger would be even more noticeable than a human and even less able to get into – ”

Steve starts to snicker. Bucky swipes at him, and Steve swipes back, and they roll off the couch onto the floor and wrestle for a little bit, till Steve lets Bucky pin him down. 

“You gonna be good?” Bucky asks.

“You wanted me to be a cat, so… no, I think that would be out of character,” Steve says, and Bucky sucks in his breath and then explodes into laughter, and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder to try to muffle the sound. 

“Come on,” says Steve, batting playfully at his shoulder. “C’mon, c’mon. So what kind of cat am I, huh?” 

“Just any old cat,” Bucky says. “Brown with black stripes and pale feet, with green eyes and – ” He stretches out to touch his nose to Steve’s again, but misses and pokes his nose into Steve’s cheek instead. He tucks his face in Steve’s neck again and giggles helplessly till Steve can’t help laughing too.

“And you? What are you?” Steve asks. 

“Black and white,” Bucky says immediately, “mostly black, with white socks and just a splash of white on my belly, and a little white – Hey!”

Steve has flipped him over onto his back. He rubs his face into Bucky’s stomach and then nuzzles lower, catching his teeth briefly on the waistband of Bucky’s cargo pants, rubbing his face against the rough fabric as he slides lower. Bucky’s cock is hard, Steve can feel it through his pants, and he rubs his cheek against it. Then he bites Bucky’s cock through the fabric, very gently, and then sucks, and then nuzzles against Bucky’s cock and purrs. 

Bucky is a little ticklish. He giggles, and his thighs clamp around Steve’s head, then loosen, and pushes Steve aside. “What are you doing?” 

Steve nuzzles against Bucky’s cock again, even lower this time, pulling the fabric taut against Bucky’s cock. “I’m looking for the white parts,” he says. 

“No, it’s up higher,” Bucky says. He lifts Steve up, hands under Steve’s armpits, and pulls him up so his head is against Bucky’s chest. “A big splash of white right over the chest.” 

Steve lifts his head to look at him. “Seriously? You’re turning down a blow-job in favor of accurate cat coloring?”

Bucky gives Steve’s head a gentle shove. “Accuracy is very important,” he says. 

Steve lunges up and kisses him on the lips. At first it’s just a quick peck, but once Steve’s there he can’t stop, he kisses Bucky rough and hard (Bucky’s got his right hand tangled up in Steve’s hair, tugging, it hurts, it feels good), and then slow and deep, and Bucky’s opening his mouth for him, arching his back, tilting back his head, and Steve can’t resist it: he leaves Bucky’s mouth and kisses his neck, the rougher skin under his chin, the soft vulnerable skin of his exposed throat. He can feel Bucky’s pulse beneath his lips. He kisses it, feels it speed up, slides his hands up under Bucky’s shirt so his hand rests over Bucky’s heart. Bucky’s nipples are hard nubs under his palms. 

Steve pushes up Bucky’s shirt further, lowers his face to give each nipple a suck. Bucky moans. His hand still rests on the back of Steve’s neck, but gently now. His body arches up to press against Steve’s, and his mouth is open, wet and red. Steve slides back up to kiss him again, touching two fingers to Bucky’s lips to hold his mouth open as Steve kisses him and kisses and kisses. Bucky’s hips rock, rolling against Steve’s. 

“Will you let me give you that blowjob now?” Steve asks, panting, his lips moving against Bucky’s. 

“I don’t think cats…” Bucky’s voice is faint and breathy. 

“We’re _werecats_ ,” interrupts Steve. “We’ve just completed an important jewel heist, and we’ve changed back, and…” He manages to undo the button at Bucky’s waistband and pushes his pants down, taking his boxer shorts with it, and then his hand finds Bucky’s cock and he can’t think of anything to say anymore, he can’t even think about blowjobs anymore, he just takes Bucky in his hand and all he wants to do is jerk him off as fast and as hard as he can. 

Bucky’s hands are on Steve now, the metal hand resting on one flank, the other hand fumbling at Steve’s waistband. He undoes the button and tugs at the zip, which doesn’t want to open over the bulge of Steve’s cock. Bucky gives up on finesse and just pulls on Steve’s pants, dragging them down, and the drag of that tight rough fabric over his cock hurts so good that Steve is moaning into Bucky’s shoulder. 

Then he’s free, and the long hard line of his cock presses against Bucky’s. Bucky sweeps his hands up under Steve’s shirt, like he means to pull it over his head; but they can’t stop kissing each other long enough to take the shirt off, and Steve can’t lift his arms anyway because he’s got one hand wrapped around his own and Bucky’s cocks, jerking them both off together, and the other squeezing Bucky’s ass.

Bucky rips Steve’s thin t-shirt instead. He presses his hand against Steve’s back, his left hand, cool metal covered by thin leather, tripping one metal finger down the knobs of Steve’s spine and then pressing in, hard, right at the top of the cleft of Steve’s ass. Steve jerks as if the touch has completed an electric circuit through his body.

The force of his own orgasm nearly obliterates him. He can’t remember Bucky coming, but he must have, because when Steve stops seeing stars, both his own cock and Bucky’s are softening in his hand, and they’ve made an unholy mess of themselves. 

Bucky finishes ripping off Steve’s shirt and then, fastidious as ever, uses it to mop them both up.

“So that’s why you do that,” Steve says. He nestles in against Bucky’s shoulder, never mind that makes it harder for Bucky to clean up. “Werecat.”

“Werecat,” Bucky agrees. He bunches the filthy shirt up and tosses it aside, and then pats Steve’s cheek gently with one hand. He’s got his fingers doubled over, so it looks almost like a paw. “You can give me a blowjob later,” he tells Steve kindly.

Steve turns his head to kiss Bucky’s thumb. He is beginning to feel drowsy. “You’re so generous.” 

Bucky snuggles down next to him. He pets Steve’s hair, still with his fingers all bunched like a paw. It’s weird, but soothing. 

“I never got to finish telling you how I look,” Bucky murmurs. 

“Hmmm?” It’s more of a vibration than a noise. 

“As a cat. With a splash of white on my chest, and just a little splotch of it on my cheek,” Bucky says. “And soft, silky ears, and sometimes – ” There’s a little hitch in Bucky’s breath. “You like to groom me behind the ears.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.” 

Steve lifts a sleep-heavy hand and scratches Bucky behind one ear. “Like that?” 

“Yeah.” Bucky’s got his mouth pressed against Steve’s head, and Steve can feel his lips moving as he speaks, can feel the shape of his smile. “Just like that.”


End file.
